


Next to a Man Like You

by DameOfNoDelicacy



Category: Bleach
Genre: ...and then some, ...but not that much actually, Anal Sex, Angst, Boys Kissing, But mostly angst, Chronic Illness, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Senpai-Kouhai Relationship, Sex, Yaoi, ahem, and some fluff, because, erm, which is to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 07:12:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8362468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DameOfNoDelicacy/pseuds/DameOfNoDelicacy
Summary: Byakuya licks his lips.He loves seeing his senpai look like this.No, Byakuya amends -His moistened lips twitch again - it’s almost enough to make him smile in earnest.He loves /making/ his senpai look like this.And yet...It’s a game, Byakuya knows.It’s just a game.





	

**Author's Note:**

> UPDATE, FEB 2018:  
> ...yo. So, uh. Fun story, I don’t, uh. Really like this fic too much anymore. I’m not sure I ever did tbh. But I don’t have the heart to orphan it or to delete it, so... take it for what it is, I suppose? H-heh? (Read: pls find it in your hearts to forgive a once-inexperienced smut writer. I was young and eager, my dudes. I am. So sorry.)  
> On that note, enjoy...?  
> :P

Pain - the quickest flash, the slightest, subtlest spark - flickers across his senpai’s face.

He is tactful. He is careful. He will never injure his senpai’s hard-won pride by insinuating weakness. He will never ask, _“Did I hurt you?”_ He will never ask, _“Do you want me to stop?”_ And he will never, gods above and below forbid, ask _“Senpai, are you well today? Or… “_

An involuntary groan escapes Byakuya’s parted lips as he thrusts once more, harder, deeper. He keeps his wary eyes, half-lidded with desperation and desire, trained on his senpai’s face.

_“Or… ”_

Internally, Byakuya cringes.

Pain again, he sees.

But still, he will never, never ask -

_“Or... is your beautiful body breaking again, senpai?”_

His senpai’s fingers clench and tighten in Byakuya’s hair; his senpai’s eyes, dark now,  more faded and more veiled than usual, gleaming green but glassy and distant, squeeze closed. _Easy_ , Byakuya thinks to himself, sliding slowly, slowly out partway and shivering as the friction sends shockwaves of tortuous pleasure straight to his gut, _easy…_

And then Byakuya thrusts again. For a moment, the pain on his senpai’s face disappears, replaced by unbridled bliss. His senpai gasps sharply - those eyes snap open - suddenly, they’re shot through with clarity.

 _“Yes,_ Bya-kun…” his senpai sighs. "Y-yes... _there…_ a- _ahh..._ _gods,_ right _there…_ ”

“...oh?” Byakuya’s lips twist into something vaguely resembling a smile. His senpai offers a jagged, breathy laugh in reply, and he nods, weakly. _Good_ , Byakuya thinks, _good._ _I can forestall his pain… at least a little..._

He slides his hands down his senpai’s sides, and he lets his fingers linger over the rippling ridges of his senpai’s ribs. He slides his hands down farther, and then grasps his senpai’s hips. His senpai’s eyes have dropped closed again, and his black brow furrows in anticipation as Byakuya pulls gently out, just a little, and readies another thrust. He lifts his senpai’s hips - he sees his senpai draw a cautious, preparatory breath -

Byakuya licks his lips.

He loves seeing his senpai look like this.

 _No_ , Byakuya amends.

His moistened lips twitch again - it’s almost enough to make him smile in earnest.

He loves _making_ his senpai look like this.

_And yet..._

It’s a game, Byakuya knows.

It’s just a game.

Ukitake Jūshirō is a powerful man. Ukitake Jūshirō could, with one deft motion of his pale hand, turn the tables and press Byakuya, hard and face-down, against his own satin sheets - could seize Byakuya’s slender wrists, and keep him stock-still, and admire him like the fine, delicate porcelain he is, trailing hot breath and cool kisses along his neck - could capture Byakuya’s lips, one by one, first the bottom and then the top, with his raking teeth - could - c- _could -_ Byakuya trembles, and for a moment, his own eyelids flutter closed - could fill Byakuya with his exquisite cock, and could play with Byakuya’s pleasures for as long as he fancied -

Byakuya opens his eyes.

He stares at his senpai, the taut muscles of his naked body tense in their wordless cry for satisfaction and release.

It’s just a game, yes - but for all that, it’s a game that Byakuya will never tire of playing.

Gently, Byakuya lifts one hand from his senpai’s hip. He brings it to his senpai’s cheek, and draws his knuckles along the smooth skin he finds there. With shockingly steady fingers, he treasures the softness, the openness, the kindness - the sheer _life_ \- in the lines of his senpai’s handsome face.

Byakuya can scarcely believe how lucky he is.

He leans down, and touches his senpai’s forehead with his own. Ukitake’s green eyes slip just barely open - asking, Byakuya sees, how much longer their owner will have to wait for Byakuya’s touch. His senpai’s breaths have become shallow, broken pants. “...Bya-kun?” his senpai whispers, his voice faint with need.

“...senpai?” Byakuya whispers back, lifting his hand again and carding through his senpai’s tangled mess of shining white hair.

“Bya-kun... p- _please_ …”

Byakuya smirks. “Hm?” he asks, and he kisses the corner of his senpai’s sweet, soft mouth.

“A- _ah…”_

“Hm?”

“B-bya- _kun_ …”

Byakuya allows himself a small, deep hum of amusement as he kisses his senpai’s eyelids, one by one. His senpai’s eyes fall closed again, and this time, they stay that way.

Byakuya moves as delicately, and with as much grace, as his eager body can manage. “ _Senpai_ ,” he mumbles, burying a kiss in Ukitake’s exposed neck. He rolls his hips backwards - he braces himself firmly against the bed -

And Byakuya thrusts again.

He cries out as he plunges into his senpai - instant pleasure surges up his spine - any control he previously had over his body evaporates, and Byakuya, catching himself by surprise, halfway collapses, awkward and lopsided, onto the bed. He’s at a loss - he doesn’t know what to do - Byakuya is a slave to these sensations - is a slave to the _warmth_ and the _tightness_ of his senpai - to the _gasps_ and the _sighs_ of his senpai - he is a slave to the unchained pleasure catapulting from the nerves in his cock to every, tiny inch of his seething skin - despite his penchant for moderation, Byakuya craves more, more, _more -_

So, Byakuya does the only thing his crazed brain can think of.

He grits his teeth, and he thrusts again.

A shameless smile splits his senpai’s closed-eyed face. “Byakuya…” Ukitake-senpai moans softly, fingers snagging in Byakuya’s fine, black hair as he draws his hands along Byakuya’s neck and down his back. “ _Byakuya_...” he says again, the word spilling out in time to Byakuya’s reckless thrusts, “Byakuya…   _Bya-kun...”_

And Byakuya, for his part, is only acting on blatant, selfish, impulsive desire. As long as he keeps thrusting, any worries which might plague him when he’s in his usual frame of mind become easier to ignore. As long as he keeps thrusting, he can focus solely on the warmth growing in his belly, on the tightness mounting in his balls, and on his senpai _-_  his _senpai_  - his senpai’s body tenses - his senpai’s breath hitches -

“Senpai…?” Byakuya rasps, seized suddenly by worry.

“It’s all right, Bya-kun,” comes Ukitake’s fevered whisper. “It’s all right… it’s… a- _ahh…_ it’s all… a-all _right…”_

Byakuya swallows. “Are you close, senpai?” he asks, his voice thick and low. He thrusts, and he thrusts, and he _thrusts -_ he knows he can’t hold out much longer. His cock aches with shocks of rhythmic ecstasy, and that ecstasy only builds each time he thrusts into his beautiful, _beautiful_ senpai -

“C-close, Bya-kun… y-yes… a- _ahh_ … y-yes, I’m close…”

“Senpai…”

“Bya-kun…”

“S-senpai… I…”

“ _Ah…_ Bya-kun...”

“I… I-I…”

“Bya-kun…?”

“I... c-can’t…”

“It’s all right, Bya-kun - it’s all right - a- _ahh -_ “

“A- _ahh..._ _senpai…_ I…  I’m going to... _”_

“It’s all right - you can come _,_ Bya-kun…”

“I’m going to… a- _ah... senpai…!_ But you… _ah..._ senpai, are you…?”

“Don’t you… w-worry about… a- _ahh…!_ I’ll be… fine, Bya-kun…”

“But… s- _senpai_ …”

And then, Byakuya is silenced by a hard, passionate kiss.

 _“Hush_ , Bya-kun,” Ukitake-senpai murmurs against Byakuya’s lips. “ _Come_ , Bya-kun. Don’t you worry - d-don’t you - a- _ahh -_ “ He gasps, as Byakuya presses hard against him with an especially desperate thrust. _“Please_ , Bya-kun,” he’s whispering now, running his quick, skillful hands along the curve of Byakuya’s ass, forcing Byakuya to thrust deeper and deeper, “p- _please…_ come inside me, Byakuya… _come_ , Bya-kun… come inside me… a- _ahh…!”_

And just like that, Byakuya’s body lurches into its climax. _“Yes_ , Bya-kun,” his senpai is saying, far, far away, it seems, as Byakuya’s breath halts helplessly in his chest. He rides the crest of his orgasm, pulling his senpai’s body upwards and close, clinging to him like he’s a drowning man, and his senpai his only hope of salvation amid this raging sea of rapture and heat...

Long minutes pass. Byakuya opens his eyes - _I didn’t even know I’d closed them -_ and he finds himself sprawled on top of his senpai, their exhausted limbs lying lifeless and tangled together. Byakuya hauls himself up, leaning heavily on one arm, and slides his spent cock out of his senpai.

He rolls to the side, and he faces away.

And Byakuya sleeps.

 

***

 

For the space of a few slow hours, silence and slumber reign.

Abruptly, Byakuya wakes. 

_What...?_

He casts a drowsy glance around his darkened bedchamber.  _Why did I wake...? What... what caused me to wake...?_ Nothing seems out of the ordinary. Nothing has changed. Still, Byakuya's bedsheets are tangled about his ankles. Still, Byakuya faces away from his beautiful senpai, and still, Byakuya is certain that this is the way it should be. _The way it should be... yes..._ the mere idea of being held by his senpai in sleep... of  _holding_ his senpai in sleep... surely,  _surely,_ Ukitake-senpai would not want that - 

And then Byakuya hears a sound.

The sound is soft, faint - but for all that, it is like the world shattering.

Instantly, Byakuya is alert. 

_No..._

He dares to turn his face towards his senpai, and for the second time that night, Byakuya cringes.

_N-no..._

His senpai gasps -

_No..._

It is shocking, Byakuya reflects dazedly, how different the sound is from the gasps that Byakuya drew from his senpai’s soft lips not long ago -

_NO -_

The sight wrenches Byakuya’s heart - the same heart that Byakuya prides himself in keeping cool, and closed, and unaffected. It’s clear that his senpai is struggling, that his senpai is fighting desperately for control. His naked body begins to curl in on itself - Byakuya hesitates - _Can I help you, senpai,_ he wonders, _or - or will I only add to your struggle if I try to ease your pain?_ Will reaching out to lay a hand on his senpai’s shoulder help, or harm? Byakuya does not know. His heart jerks with sympathy again - Ukitake-senpai’s  back has curved so drastically now that, if he wanted to, Byakuya could count each and every vertebra of his spine - and Ukitake-senpai is so desperately thin that, if he wanted to, Byakuya could count each and every rib in his side - Ukitake-senpai trembles - _No, senpai - no, no, NO -_ Byakuya can see all too clearly that his senpai is losing this battle against his body -

_And yet…_

He coughs, now, once, faintly -

_And yet…_

Then twice, with greater vigor - and then -

_And yet…_

All of a sudden, his pale figure is racked by violent shudders. He expels shock after shock of cruel, blood-flecked air -

_And yet…_

Byakuya can’t watch idly any longer.

 _“Hush_ , senpai,” Byakuya says, his decision made, stealing the words his senpai used during their lovemaking. With one strong hand, he grasps one of his senpai’s quaking shoulders, and with the other, he gently touches his senpai’s hip, silently urging his senpai’s legs, quivering with tension, to relax. His senpai cracks his green eyes open and twitches his lips as though he’s readying speech -

 _“Hush,_ ” Byakuya says again, more forcefully this time. “Don’t talk, senpai. Just _breathe_.”

He grips his senpai’s shoulder more tightly. “I’m going to help you, senpai,” Byakuya says, in a rapid, urgent murmur. “You’re crushing your lungs with your own body by staying like this - you do know that, don’t you, you old fool?”

Ukitake-senpai starts. Something that sounds vaguely like a sickening, stilted burst of laughter escapes him - and, of course, when Byakuya looks at his senpai’s pale face, he sees a small smile there. For a moment, the shadow of a smile plays across Byakuya’s lips, too - but then his senpai’s body is shaking again - the curve of his senpai’s back deepens even further, thanks to some bizarre, centuries-honed reflex, no doubt - and any trace of humor is wiped from Byakuya’s face, replaced again by deadly seriousness.

Slowly, Byakuya presses the palm of his other hand to the middle of his senpai’s back. “Follow my hand, senpai,” he says softly, pushing his hand gradually upwards, following the line of his senpai’s spine. “Straighten your back for me, senpai… that’s right… that’s it... give your lungs the room they need, senpai… _that’s_ it… that’s right, senpai…”

And at long last, Ukitake-senpai, aided by Byakuya’s patient urging, releases his back from that ghastly curve. Carefully, Byakuya slips one hand underneath his senpai’s arm - “That’s it, senpai,” he says, "that's it - " - and, with one smooth motion, he hauls his senpai upright.

Ukitake-senpai is heavy in Byakuya’s arms, but Byakuya bears his weight fully and with determination. _“That’s it, senpai,”_ he says, over and over and over again, rubbing small circles on his senpai’s now-straight back with his palm. He feels his senpai’s ribs expand, and, haltingly, contract - the strange, uneven rhythm of his ragged coughs begins to slow - once, he coughs so violently he nearly topples sideways, but Byakuya, steadfast and stubborn, wraps one arm around his senpai’s thin chest to keep him steady -

Abruptly, Ukitake-senpai shudders.

He hangs his white head.

Suddenly, he is still... so, _so_ still...

And then, he _breathes._

Byakuya sighs his relief. He feels that tiny, ghostly smile threatening to slip back onto his face. It occurs to Byakuya that he and his senpai must be quite a sight to see - Byakuya’s senpai resting nearly all of his weight against him, long, thin limbs stretched heavily and uselessly outwards, and Byakuya himself as good as hidden behind the taller man, only his meager arms and legs protruding where they provide support... and both of them fully naked, too...

With gentle fingertips, Byakuya reaches up and caresses his senpai’s cheek. The smooth skin shifts beneath Byakuya’s fingers - the makings, Byakuya knows, of another smile. _“Senpai,”_ Byakuya says softly, placing a tender kiss on the ridge of his senpai’s shoulder.

To Byakuya’s surprise, his senpai responds. _“Bya… k-kun…”_ he says, his voice a quiet, hoarse whisper. Ukitake-senpai’s hand floats up to rest atop Byakuya’s head. Trembling fingers catch and twirl in silken hair, gratitude evident in every tiny motion.

Byakuya blinks.

Instantly, he is overwhelmed - overcome.

He hangs his own head.

He hates seeing his senpai feel like this.

 _No_ , Byakuya amends.

He blinks again - it’s almost enough to make tears prick his eyes.

He hates _making_ his senpai feel like this.

_Because..._

It’s a lie, Byakuya knows.

It _must_ be a lie.

Ukitake Jūshirō’s body is not strong. His body has never been strong, and his body will never be strong. Byakuya knows this; Ukitake-senpai himself knows this; the whole of Soul Society, Byakuya is certain, knows this. Ukitake Jūshirō could, without hearing a hard word from a single Soul, choose to spend his days in peace and solitude - could mourn his ill fortune and his ailing lungs, and could hate and envy those whose fates had been kinder than his own - could hang up his sword his Captain’s haori and waste away, powerless, but pitied and unquestionably forgiven, until he drew his final, ragged breath - could - c-could even - Byakuya fights to keep his own breath steady, fights to keep his reiatsu from wavering with emotion in his senpai’s presence - his senpai could be _reckless_ , if he wanted to - could be _forceful_ and _assertive_ and _cruel_ with his tremendous power - could seek to _prove_ that, despite his weak body, he is a force to be reckoned with - that he is a person and blade not to cross - that he -

“...Bya-kun?”

Byakuya blinks once more.

_Because..._

His senpai’s voice has grown stronger. Byakuya runs his fingers along his senpai’s cheek again - the softness - the openness - the kindness -  the _life -_

Still, Byakuya cannot believe his luck.

_Because…_

“Senpai...?” he asks, wary. He knows what’s coming - he’s heard the words before. And always, _always_ , Byakuya actually considers believing them.

Sure enough, Ukitake-senpai speaks the words that Byakuya expects:

_“Thank you, Bya-kun.”_

Thanks.

Appreciation.

Gratitude.

These things, Byakuya cannot respond to - not from his senpai.

Because -

_Because…_

Ukitake-senpai is powerful. He is the most powerful man Byakuya has ever known - and yet - _and yet -_ and yet, Ukitake-senpai's power is tempered by kindness.

Ukitake-senpai’s body is weak. It is very nearly the weakest body Byakuya has ever seen, or touched - it comes second only to another body that Byakuya once cherished - a body very different from his senpai’s, but just as beautiful, and a body that Byakuya seldom thinks of these days, because it is long-dead now - and yet - _and yet -_ and yet, the weakness of Ukitake-senpai’s body is tempered by the extraordinary strength of his heart.

But for all that, Ukitake-senpai still - _still_ \- expresses his thanks to Byakuya in moments like this. And he still - _still_ \- allows Byakuya to take him when they make love, still cries Byakuya’s name and lets Byakuya control his pleasures, because he knows that this is what Byakuya likes best -

Byakuya swallows, hard.

Who is he, next to a man like Ukitake-senpai?

Ukitake-senpai will never say so - perhaps, Byakuya dares to hope, Ukitake-senpai _really_ doesn’t believe that it is true -

But next to a man like Ukitake-senpai, Byakuya is nothing.

Ukitake-senpai’s breath hitches again - just once - and then he settles, leaning gently back into Byakuya’s embrace.

_And yet…_

Byakuya holds his senpai tighter, offering him support - offering him protection - offering him - offering - _offering_ -

Byakuya swallows again.

It isn’t love.

It _couldn’t_ be love, could it?

_And yet..._

And yet...

The feeling is _so_ akin to love, that Byakuya has difficulty finding something else to call it...

After a time, Ukitake-senpai asks Byakuya to help him lay down again - he feels well enough, he says, for that. Byakuya guides him onto his back, treating his powerful, kind, weak, strong senpai gently and making sure not to let his hesitations show. At first, Byakuya pulls away, certain that his senpai will feel that he’s called upon enough of Byakuya’s help for one evening, certain that his senpai will no longer desire Byakuya’s touch -

“Bya-kun?” Ukitake-senpai says softly.

And for a moment, hope flares in Byakuya’s chest. He turns back to his senpai, and searches those clear, tired eyes for answers - _It’s a game_ , he tells himself, forcing the thoughts into his mind, _it’s just a game - I am nothing, senpai - nothing! I am nothing, next to a man like you._

_And yet..._

And yet…

In those eyes, Byakuya can’t help but imagine that he sees a sliver or two of the truth he longs for. When he looks at those eyes, Byakuya nearly finds himself believing that, maybe, _just_ maybe, Ukitake-senpai really does like the feeling of Byakuya’s clumsy, young body pressed up against his… that, maybe, _just_ maybe Ukitake-senpai’s gratitude is as deep and earnest as it seems to be, each time he expresses it…

Despite himself, Byakuya, for what feels like the hundredth time that night - gods know he’ll never grow tired of it - brings his hand to his senpai’s face. He brushes his senpai’s cheek with his trembling fingertips - he feels softness - openness - kindness - _life_ -

“...yes, senpai?” Byakuya whispers.

At Byakuya’s touch, Ukitake-senpai’s lips twitch into a weary smile.

“...hold me, Bya-kun?” he says.

**Author's Note:**

> *pokes head up from where it has been firmly buried in an oh-so-sneaky hiding place*
> 
> Um.  
> This is my very first time writing/posting anything properly slash-y - which is to say, I've dabbled in M-rated kissing shenanigans, but have never actually written/posted actual sex... until now!  
> So... I really would love feedback, if you don't mind, but... erm... do be gentle and kind, like Bya-kun is with his poor senpai? Admittedly, I'm still feeling pretty darned self-conscious about the whole thing.  
> Oh! And, of course - enjoy! Um. H-heh?
> 
> *aaand promptly hides once more*
> 
> *...actually, pokes head out again for, like, two more seconds*
> 
> Oh - and - a bit more background on this little piece, for those who are interested - it wasn't supposed to happen at all, really. I was working on a different ByaUki piece - one which I hope to post before too long - and I decided to flesh out my headcanons about who, of the two of them, tops more regularly when they have sex. I found myself increasingly fascinated by the dynamic of their relationship - who depends on whom, and for what, and what each man admires in the other, /particularly/ when it comes to strength and weakness, both physical and otherwise - and I started scribbling a few paragraphs about that dynamic, and those scribblings kinda grew and changed, and became the work above. I'm still not sure whether I like it, but I figured some of you might. So. That's all, I suppose! And, once again - enjoy!
> 
> *UPDATE, Spring 2018*  
> Eyyyy, my dudes.  
> So.  
> It's been a while since I posted this fic and I, uh.   
> Kinda think it's awful.  
> Hehhhhh.  
> I'm not going to take it down, and I just don't have the heart to orphan it, but at this point - I mean, read it for the smut, or read it for the feels, if you like. Just know that I really don't feel that this is indicative of the work I can do now. It's also not quite the way I see this ship, for the record - I've done some thinking, and that's changed, too. My days of writing ByaUki - even explicit ByaUki - may not be over, but in the future, I can tell you that anything I do produce won't look anything like this.  
> Not looking for sympathy or anything here, btw. Just letting you know how I feel. I guess I'm - uh - a little embarrassed by this fic, when it comes down to it? Something like that??  
> Eh. Anyway. Ending my rambles now. Catch ya later, friends :))


End file.
